This Looks Bad (Because No One Is Well)
by TonySnark729
Summary: Hawkeye is sick of wearing his hearing aids. He's sick of being eaten up by guilt. He blames himself for Quicksilver's death. Tony Stark and the others try to be there for him. Post Age of Ultron.
1. Do No Harm

So this is my first Hawkeye-centric fic. I'm basing this story off of Matt Fraction, Jeff Lemire, and Ramon Perez's Hawkeye comics.

If you're confused as to why I have Clint 1. Deaf and 2. Wearing hearing aids, please go ahead and read the Lemire/Perez comic, not only because it'll answer questions but also because the whole Hawkeye series of these comics are amazing. 3. And because Deaf Clint is canon.

This story is post AoU, in case you didn't see my previous description.

If you do like this story, go ahead and review. Even if it's just to tell me (nicely) that a sentence doesn't make sense or whatever.

Without further ado, please enjoy!

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Chapter 1: Do No Harm

. . .

Clint glanced over from his place on the couch, faintly hearing someone yelling and seeing Steve looking over at that possible someone. He turned up the hearing aid in his ear and cringed a bit when he heard the yelling now, having turned up the hearing aid too high.

"Ahh," he groaned. "What's going on?"

Tony walked over to him and threw his arms up. "I've only been offering you a beer for the past ten minutes. I was beginning to think you weren't even in the room. By the way, _so_ glad I could spend all my time and hard work into making you those hearing aids just so you can take them out or turn them off or whatever."

Clint gave a half-embarrassed smirk. "Sorry. I just needed to think without all the noise."

Tony handed a beer to Steve who reached out and grabbed it before he set one down in front of the archer. He then sat down on the couch next to him and sighed.

"It's fine. I get it. I'd probably do the same thing too if I were in your shoes."

Steve smiled now and laughed. "A world without Tony listening in on conversations or talking so much. That'd be something. It would be a much quieter world."

Tony raised his eyebrows and glanced over at Clint as he also laughed a bit before opening his beer. He looked over at Steve now with a teasing look. "First of all, rude. Second of all, I have an AI that _I_ built and unfortunately for you, he's a spitting personality of me so you would have to deal with a second me, no matter what. Oh, and he can also lock all of you inside here and 'forget' to turn the sprinklers on in case of a fire."

Steve shook his head, still chuckling before he calmed down enough to take a sip of his own beer.

When Tony turned back to Barton, he saw him shaking his head. "No, you're wrong. Man, I love saying that." When he saw Tony's confused look, he shrugged. "Come on, man. I mean, okay. Jarvis is, technically, a robot -"

Tony looked at him skeptically as he interrupted. "Uh no, actually. Jarvis is Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. A system is not a robot. A robot is like one of my suits –"

"Whatever, Stark. We're not going to argue semantics. My point is that as a thing with robotic technology, he has to obey the laws of Robotics, and one of those laws is that it can't put humans in danger," Clint explained.

"So?"

"So, he wouldn't be able to not turn on the sprinklers and let all of us burn to death! It would be against his law of harming a human being…"

Tony stared at him, his mouth agape, shaking his head. "I am… speechless. It is really amazing where you come up with all of this. Where _did_ you come up with these Laws of Robotics, pray tell?"

Clint looked over at Steve who looked just as mystified as Tony. "Oh come on, seriously? Does no one else read in this damn place?"

"Uh… I… I read," a voice spoke from the kitchen.

Clint turned around to see Bruce shyly raising his hand. "Well, good. At least you know where I'm going with this, then."

Bruce nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Yeah, the Laws of Robotics. Issac Asimov, Asimov's Laws, right? I, Robot and all of that?" He looked over at a still confused Tony and Steve and chuckled. "They're science fiction books. One of the Laws is that a robot may not harm or injure a human being."

"Well, okay," Tony sighed in defeat. "Whatever. You'd still feel my wrath even if I was deaf. Speaking of deaf, how are the hearing aids working? Still okay?"

Tony's tone of voice had changed from dismissive to serious, focusing his attention back on Barton. When it came to Stark tech and his friends and team mates, he wanted to make sure things were working as they should be, lest something goes wrong on a mission.

Clint nodded now. "Yeah, it works great. Thanks again, by the way."

Tony took a sip of his beer as he leaned back on the couch. "Of course. What kind of millionaire genius would I be if I didn't help out a fellow Avenger in need? Besides, you'd be no good to us unable to hear anything."

Clint also relaxed on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Yeah, it's too bad I'm blind. Oh wait, I'm not. I can still shoot arrows, unlucky for you."

Steve chuckled now and glanced over at Bruce who was quiet, but also softly laughing.

Tony jokingly bumped his shoulder into the archer's. "I meant with our communicators. You wouldn't be able to hear what our plans were."

"I know," Clint rolled his eyes. "I just thought I would screw with you, Stark."

Tony smirked. "You can't afford to screw with me, and I mean that in every way and shape possible. I help make your high tech arrows, not to mention all the upgrades I'm constantly making to pretty much everything to make our lives easier." He looked up and over at Bruce whose eyes seemed preoccupied. "Hey, you need me for something, Banner?"

Clint looked over at Bruce who was now looking timid. He shook his head but there was sadness in his eyes.

"No, thank you. Sorry, I was just… spacing out. I'm going to go work in the lab upstairs for a while," he replied before he turned around and started towards the elevator.

Steve looked over at Tony worriedly. "Do you think he's really okay?"

Tony sighed and took a longer sip of his beer before he set it down on the table and stood up. "I don't, in fact. My Iron Man senses are tingling… I'm going to keep him company, keep an eye on him. I'll see you in a few hours for dinner. Whoever's cooking, don't make breakfast for dinner again!"

Clint looked up at him. "What's wrong with breakfast for dinner? It's the dinner of Americans!"

Tony looked down and shook his head. "You're not serious… you're actually asking what's wrong with having it? We've had it for almost four days in a row now! Is it the only thing you know how to cook or what, Barton?"

The other man held his hands out in and shrugged before he took another sip of his beer. "I can cook other things too…." He trailed off. "I just like breakfast."

Tony roughly ruffled Barton's hair. "Make something else or I'm going to cook and by cook, I mean order from Shawarma's. See you troublemakers later."

Steve and Clint both chuckled, now alone in the room. They watched television for a while and made casual conversation before Steve cleared his throat.

"So, um… if you don't mind me asking, what caused you to go deaf in the first place?"

Clint took a long drink now and gave an uncomfortable half-smile. He shifted in his place on the leather couch. "I uhh… didn't have the nicest father growing up and… I was an actual troublemaker. Well, actually, I guess more correctly, I was a curious kid. My father didn't like us, my brother and me, being curious about anything. He just… wanted us to obey his orders, do what he told us to do, without question. He'd… uh… he'd beat me on a pretty regular basis, even when I tried to stay out of his way."

Steve gave his friend a sympathetic look now, nodding in understanding. "Where was your mother?"

Clint shrugged. "She left as soon as she could. She found another man and left my brother Barney and me with our dad. I know she wanted to take us with her but… the other man didn't like kids and she loved him, so… she left."

Steve wet his lips and looked down at his beer. "I'm sorry, Barton."

The archer shrugged. "It was a long time ago. I just try not to think about either of my parents. My father makes me so angry sometimes,"

He saw Steve nod and after a moment, and another sip of beer, he spoke again. "What was your father like?"

Steve straightened up a bit and gave him a half smile. "He was okay. He tried his best to be a good father but it was the 1920s and we were poor. He worked low paying jobs almost all day and he got frustrated sometimes. He didn't… hurt me or anything, but… he drank and he drank hard. He hurt my mother once but… he never did it again. He died when I was seven, and my mother died when I was a teenager so my father didn't really have any major impact on my life, like yours did."

"It's good to know that shitty fathers are universal. Or, I suppose it's not good," Clint chuckled.

Steve chuckled weakly, staring curiously at Clint's hearing aid that was just barely peeking out of his visible ear in Steve's line of vision. "Have you always had hearing aids or just since you became Hawkeye?"

"I had to lip read a lot when I was younger, or have Barney write what he wanted to say to me, and then a lot of my teenage years was spent learning sign language but then I realized that wouldn't do me any good unless someone else knew it too. I pretty much had really shitty hearing aids that I never wore either because they were annoying or uncomfortable," Clint explained, looking visibly more comfortable talking about the hearing aid itself rather than his loss of hearing.

Steve listened and nodded in acknowledgement. He scratched his temple in thought. "Thank God for Stark tech, huh?"

Clint nodded and also laughed. "Definitely. It's nice to be able to hardly feel it in there but also still be able to take them out when I want to."

Steve nodded in agreement, silent for a minute or two before he fingered the glass bottle in his hands. "Do you think Stark regrets what he did? Building Ultron and everything?"

Clint let this question sink in before he took a sip and sighed.

"Yeah, I think he is regretful," Barton answered honestly. "A lot of people died, and… he didn't want that. Tony might seem like a selfish asshole but he didn't see any of the bad stuff happening when he made Ultron. Are you still pissed at him?"

Steve looked down at his lap and chewed on his lip thoughtfully.

"I don't know. I thought that I put it behind us but there are just some days when I blame Tony completely. I get so angry that he could be so thoughtless and stupid, and I just feel like I'm reliving that day all over again, you know?"

Clint clenched his jaw now and looked down at his own lap. "It wasn't his fault about the kid getting riddled with bullets though, Steve. That was… that was my fault, and you shouldn't blame Tony for that."

Steve automatically started shaking his head once Clint mentioned Quicksilver. His eyes turned sympathetic again and he set his half-drunken bottle down on the table beside him.

"Clint, that wasn't your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened to him. He made the conscious decision to save your life; he knew the danger. There's only some days when I blame Tony for that but then I have to remind myself that he made a sacrifice so you could save an innocent life."

Barton shook his head, already getting close to breaking down. He looked away from the Cap and he finished off his beer before he stood up. He swallowed the bitter liquid down and side-stepped around him.

"Thanks, man. I get what you're saying but… all I'm trying to say is that it's not Tony's fault. Don't be mad at him."

Steve watched helplessly now as Clint threw out his bottle before he headed towards the elevator.

Once the doors of the elevator closed, he leaned against the wall and ran his hands through his hair, his eyes tearing up slightly. Since That Day in Sokovia, he had never been able to forgive himself. He had always told himself that it was his fault that the kid had died. So many Ifs.

If the little boy hadn't wandered away from his mother, he wouldn't have had to go after him and Quicksilver would still be alive. If he never went after the boy, maybe Quicksilver wouldn't have to sacrifice his life. If Clint had ended his life to protect someone else, he wouldn't have had to see his teammate die.

 _No, stop it, Hawkeye. Don't think that way._

He rubbed his eyes now and took a deep breath when all he wanted to do was sink to the bottom of the elevator.

" _Excuse me, Mr. Barton,"_ a voice interrupted his thoughts. _"It appears as though you are in distress, according to your increased heartrate. Is there anything I can do to assist you?"_

Clint shook his head but then remembered that Jarvis couldn't actually see him, or maybe he could. Clint didn't know for sure.

"No, thank you, Jarvis. I'd rather just suffer in silence."

" _That seems ill-advised."_

Clint cracked a small smirk. "Jarvis, if all of us were in a room together and the room was on fire, would you let us all burn to death?"

There was an amusing moment of silence as the AI appeared to take time to think about the question, perhaps even confused by it, before he spoke.

" _I believe that would go against my protocols, Mr. Barton. I would turn on the sprinkler system to put the fire out."_

Clint felt oddly better. "Thought so."


	2. Alone

Thank you so much for the reviews!

Keep them coming?

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Chapter 2: Alone

. . .

Clint walked into the lab but stopped short when he saw Tony's arm around Bruce's shoulder, talking in reassuring whispers while Bruce occasionally nodded, his shoulders trembling slightly. He stood there, realizing that neither men saw him yet.

He could still walk back out without being noticed.

He had just turned on his heel now when Tony saw him. Clint decided since he was already seen, he might as well be nice and see what was ailing Bruce. He walked in closer to the men now and once he got close enough, he gently patted Bruce on the back.

"Hey, doc. Everything all right?"

Bruce nodded and sniffled before he cleared his throat. "Er… y-yeah. Yeah, I'll be okay. Thank you for your concern though. I…" he trailed off, apparently unable to come up with an excuse to leave, obvious that he wanted to.

Tony appeared to see his discomfort because he pretended to have just thought of something. "Hey, if you don't mind, can you do me a favor and go to my lab downstairs off the kitchen and tell me what you think of my newest child?"

Clint raised an eyebrow, amused at what Tony called his creations. He knew what Tony was actually doing though, but it didn't make Clint respect either man any less. Tony could have been a dick and made him stay in his distressed state.

Bruce hurried out of the room and once he left, Clint looked at Tony expectedly.

"So… is everything actually okay or… did something happen?"

Tony shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

"He's going through rough stuff right now. Aren't we all, though?"

Clint wanted to know more, out of pure concern, but he also didn't want to be too nosy. Bruce was allowed to have his secrets. He just nodded. "Yeah… right. We are…"

Tony seemed to realize suddenly that Clint had followed him up here for a reason. "Did you want to talk about something, Barton? What ails you, Hawkguy?"

Clint wanted to cringe at the nickname, but refrained. He sighed now and then shook his head. "I just needed to get away from Steve for a while. You know, actually, I've been getting crazy cabin fever lately. Did you want to just get out? Maybe go somewhere for a few hours?"

He knew he was being too obvious. Tony wasn't an idiot; he would figure out that something was eating at Clint too. He just didn't want there to be too much drama going on at the same time. He cared for his fellow Avengers and the last thing he wanted was for someone else's problems to be diminished on account of his own.

"Sure, did you want to invite the others along too or just the two of us?"

The two of them would mean having to discuss problems and that was not on Clint's to-do list right now. He didn't need the spotlight on him.

"Let's all go somewhere together and hang out, as a team. We don't have to lie low anymore, right?" Clint asked, wanting to be certain before they decided to do this.

Tony smirked. "It doesn't really matter, does it, Barton?"

Clint searched his eyes and sighed. "Guess not. Either way, I'm going out for a few hours."

The inventor nodded knowingly before he straightened. "So, did you want to get Romanoff in on this get together too? By the way, what is the deal with you two? Are you exes or friends or friends with benefits or what?"

Clint smirked now. "Just friends. At least for now. We've saved each other a lot. I guess we're just naturally close, but yeah, I want to invite her too."

Tony smiled now and nodded. "Fine, good. Jarvis, call Romanoff and tell her to meet us at the Denny's ten minutes away from here."

" _Very good, sir."_

Clint's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Thought you didn't like breakfast for dinner?"

"They have other things there! That's seriously such a common misconception, by the way," Tony shook his head in mock disappointment. "So… I guess it'll be an… early dinner."

"That's fine with me. I don't think a lot of us are eating as much as we should anyway," the archer admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with some anxiety.

He had chosen not to have any breakfast and the only thing he had eaten for "lunch" had been a beer he had, in fact, drank. Alcohol had been a common staple in his diet for an unhealthy amount of time since the salvation of the Sokovian citizens. He knew the others had done this as well, so he didn't feel like such an alcoholic.

Tony gave him an almost sad smile, seemingly unsure what to say for a while. He sighed and then started to lead him back downstairs to talk to Steve about their dinner plans. "Well, that's going to change today."

Clint nodded and tried to focus on the fact that he would be seeing Natasha for the first time since the end of the battle; that was what he was most looking forward to doing. It wasn't even having breakfast for dinner again.

It was seeing his best friend again. That was worth more to Clint.

It took the guys about twenty minutes to get ready and by the time they all arrived at Denny's, by foot so they could have some quality time together, of course, Natasha was already sitting in one of the larger booths, sipping on coffee.

Clint couldn't help but smile out of the side of his mouth and felt a warmness when she smiled upon seeing all of them as well.

"About time you boys got here. I feel like I've been waiting forever. Did you have to stop and wait for Stark's big ego to catch up or what?"

Clint, Bruce, and Steve chuckled as they scooted into the booth, Clint making sure he was next to Natasha, and even Tony cracked a smirk as he shook his head.

"I think my genius is actually bigger than my ego, Romanoff. One day, it might actually save all of you…"

Clint glanced over and saw Steve visibly tense up, alongside with his jaw tightening and knew what was going on in his head. This was just the cherry on top of the 'It's all Tony's fault' sundae. There was a small part of him that wanted to defend Tony, the part that felt grateful to him, so he decided to stay out of this and instead turned his attention to Natasha.

"You have the right idea, at least. I knew we were friends for a reason," Clint nodded towards Nat's cup of coffee. "Planning on having breakfast for dinner too?"

Natasha flashed him a smile. "Of course."

Clint now motioned towards the other men. "These guys just don't understand the American staple of Brinner."

The three men now turned to look at Natasha and Clint and the tension at the table seemed to ease a bit. Tony raised an eyebrow at the two of them.

"Okay, so both of you are wired a bit oddly but I'm just going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that something happened in Budapest that made you so traumatized as to have breakfast for dinner, so therefore, I'll just excuse you both for it and order my nice and juicy burger," Tony rambled, setting the menu down.

Natasha and Clint both rolled their eyes at the inventor. When the waitress came over, Clint and Natasha both ordered sausage with eggs and toast, while the other three men all ordered either sandwiches or burgers. Once she left again, the table grew silent.

A few minutes passed without any of them saying anything to each other and it made Clint start to think his hearing aids were malfunctioning, occasionally seeing their mouths open, but when he realized he could hear the other conversations going on at other tables, he chalked it up to his fellow Avengers just yawning.

After another few minutes, the silence was making him uneasy. He clenched and unclenched his fists, the silence making him remember how quiet everything had been when Quicksilver had died; the silence had been so deafening that Clint just wanted to scream.

His whole life he had gotten used to the silence but when he had received his first taste of Stark tech hearing aids right before the attack of New York some years ago, the silence after those bullets riddled the kid was the worst. It was different, somehow.

Nat must have seen how tense Clint was, or maybe felt it, because she took another sip of her coffee and then spoke to the table. "You guys all right?"

Steve looked down, as if he was ashamed that he had let out an unspoken secret while Bruce looked away from her. Tony looked straight at her, however, and gave her a neutral expression.

"Why do you want us to talk about our feelings? You ask that question every time we see you. Contrary to popular belief, we can be okay and not talk constantly."

"But that's the thing, Stark. You all are _not_ okay and you're _not_ talking about it," Natasha remarked with a tinge of sympathy laced in her voice. "There's nothing wrong with admitting you might need some group therapy."

Tony crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively and leaned back in his seat just as their food arrived. They all waited until their waitress had disappeared again before Tony spoke again.

His eyes were no longer sarcastic or passive, but now cold and intense.

"Actually, that's literally the last thing we need right now. What happened in Sokovia was intense and terrible, but we saved a lot more lives than we lost!"

Bruce jumped a bit at the sound of his yelling but Steve looked at Tony with serious eyes.

"Keep your voice down, Stark," he ordered in a hushed whisper.

Stark didn't acknowledge Steve but lowered his voice a bit, still glaring at Natasha. "Talking does jack shit, and that's a fact. This whole thing will blow over but we need to let it. If we keep trying to rehash what happened, what we could've done better, or what we did wrong, it's going to eat at us and rip us all to shreds. If you want to let it do that to you, then fine, but leave us out of it, Romanoff."

Natasha stared at Tony, unblinkingly. She wasn't afraid of him and he just made her more angry than anything. She wanted to scream at him, hit him, but Clint knew she wouldn't actually do any of those things here in public.

She let the topic for now, and started to eat her eggs.

Clint forced himself to eat some of his toast but he didn't feel hungry anymore. He watched as the other men also reluctantly pecked at their own food as well. Natasha watched with uneasiness as her boys that she had come to know and love, all appeared more tense and depressed and angry than she had ever seen them before.

Suddenly, Bruce pushed his plate away. "Sorry, but let me out. I'm not hungry and… and I have other things I need to get done in the lab."

Steve stood up obediently, letting Bruce out of the booth.

"Wait," Tony piped up now. "I'll come with. We can work on it together and get it done faster."

Bruce turned to Tony with stern eyes and shook his head, holding a hand out in the universal 'stop' signal. "No, just… don't. Stay here and eat, Tony. I'll see you later."

Tony straightened up and looked at him with almost knowing eyes. "Will I, Bruce?"

Clint wasn't liking the connotations with this conversation and Steve's eyes had turned from stern to concerned, glancing over at Bruce.

The sudden excessive amount of attention on him now was too much for Bruce to handle. He just nodded. "Yeah, sure."

Without another word, he walked out of the restaurant and Steve took his seat back in the booth beside Tony.

Clint exchanged worried looks with Nat and then looked over at Tony, as if the genius knew more than the rest of them about the situation, and maybe he did. He thought back to earlier how he had walked in on an upset Bruce Banner, and his worry increased.

"Should… we leave him alone? I mean, is he going to try something?"

Nat looked visibly torn now, having the same thought as her friend.

"No, just… sit and eat. You guys wanted to come here! I was trying to make you happy," Tony sighed in frustration.

"Tony," Clint looked at him. "Bruce could hurt himself. His head is obviously not in a good place right now. He shouldn't be alone!"

"He's fine!" Tony argued back, but his eyes were deceptively laced with worry. "No one is leaving. Just sit, drink your coffee, eat your meal, and then we can leave and go back home."

Steve stood up now. "It's fine. I'll leave. I wasn't hungry anyway," Then, after a moment, Steve gave Clint and Nat an apologetic look. "Sorry, but… I just can't do this right now. I'll see you guys back at the Tower when you're done eating. Don't rush or anything though."

He left the restaurant now, leaving them to their booth.

"And then there were three," Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes.

The tension at the table seemed lighter now, something that Clint was thankful for. He forced himself to take another bite of toast, and then looked at his friend.

"What's going on with Banner, Tony? Is he feeling suicidal again or what?"

Natasha straightened a bit and looked over at Stark with interested eyes. Tony ran a hand through his hair and placed his arms on either side of his plate before looking over at them.

"Yes, okay? He's been feeling under the weather lately, and he wants to kill himself but it doesn't actually matter anyway, right? Even if he does try to do it, the Hulk will always prevent it. Like he did before with the bullets."

"So we shouldn't even try to stop him in the first place?" Natasha sounded offended. "That's pretty shitty logic for a friend. It doesn't matter if the Hulk does protect him, Stark! That isn't the point!"

Tony nodded in acknowledgement, appearing to understand what she was saying. It was about being there for a friend in need, and giving him healthier outlets to prevent him from even trying in the first place.

Clint finished his piece of toast now and shrugged. "Yeah, she's right. Anyway, if he does go Hulk, he'll destroy the Tower. That's something we can't really afford to have happen right now. We need a place where we can just relax and not worry about unpredictable stuff. Not to downplay what Bruce is going through but it won't be easy on anyone."

Tony finally took a bite of his burger now, chewed, and then swallowed before he finally spoke again. "Okay. Fine, I'll try to be more sympathetic to him. Just promise me you won't mention the 'T' word again, Romanoff. You all can do whatever you need to do to get past this, but I won't be forced to see a damn therapist."

"Why do you want to be a martyr, Stark?" Natasha asked him now, searching his face.

Tony gave her a hard-lipped smirk now and shook his head. "I'm not. I just don't need help. I got past what happened in Sokovia. I'm just waiting for the rest of you to catch up so we can get on with our lives again."

Tony took another bite of his burger before he stood up and dropped a $50 bill before he looked at them. "I'm going back too. This was a mistake. I'm sorry I even tried to cater to the two of you."

Clint watched as Tony walked out now and then put his face in his hands, feeling like he was finally able to be himself again. Natasha placed a gentle hand on his back.

"He's just angry at himself. He'll never admit it, but I know he's not over this. He blames himself for Maximoff's death, but he just doesn't want to admit it."

"At least Steve and him are on the same page then," Clint muttered into his hands before he finally sat back up again.

Natasha gave him a sympathetic smile now before she took another sip of her coffee.

"You know that I'm always here for you, right, Clint? You don't feel alone, do you?"

He found comfort in her gentle voice. She was genuinely concerned for him, and even though he knew she was concerned for the others as well, he felt a special bond with her. They were always on the same level, somehow.

"I don't feel alone, no. Just don't tell me you have to leave me with them to go on some secret mission," he forced a small smile.

She smiled a real smile now and shook her head. "Nope. You're stuck with me now, Barton."

"Good."


	3. Escapism

Chapter 3: Escapism

. . .

When Clint and Natasha got back home, they decided to put in a movie. The sun had gone down a little more than halfway in the movie and now had one arm wrapped around his right leg, and her body leaned against his knee, having fallen asleep.

He took a sip of his beer, glancing down at her red hair that was fallen freely over her shoulders and partly on his leg. She looked so peaceful and at ease. It wasn't even romantic or anything; they were close friends who had been through so much and have seen the worst sides of each other already.

He had set his bottle down at the table beside him when he saw Steve carefully take a seat next to him on the couch, smiling slightly when he saw Natasha's position at his legs.

"Mind if I sit and talk with you for a bit, Barton?" Steve asked in a polite whisper, making sure his voice was quiet but also a notch louder than the movie in the background.

Clint glanced over at him and shook his head. "Not at all. Better you than Tony right now."

Steve tensed a little at the mention of the man's name before sighing. "Where do you stand with him, Clint? Wherever it is, I won't hold it against you. I just… want to know."

The archer glanced at the television before he looked back at Steve. "I think he was out of line earlier, but… I still consider himself a good friend. I think sometimes he thinks in the realistic way that we can't always think sometimes."

There was a silence for several moments, as if Steve had been thinking.

"Do you think he's right about the therapy thing?"

Clint took another swig of his beer. "What do you mean?"

Steve shrugged now and took a silent breath. "I mean… about talking not doing any good? And about how we saved more lives than we lost? Maybe… maybe he's right; maybe we just need to… get over it."

Clint was surprised at the sudden change of thought coming from Steve, and also became slightly suspicious of it. It was rare for Steve to admit that Tony was right about anything, even if he was. Steve must really be in emotional trouble if he's seeing things from Tony's point of view now.

Barton looked at him now with uneasy eyes, swallowing hard. He scratched his chin and then bit his lip. "I think it just depends on who we decide to talk to. Some of us are better for others as far as talking about things go. I think that 'getting over it' only works for someone as narcissistic as Tony. He's strong on a whole other mental level that I've never been able to get on."

Steve took this in, nodding as he listened to his friend intently.

"Do you really think we saved more lives though?"

It was Clint's turn to tense up now, thinking of the big one that they had lost.

That _he_ had lost.

"We saved a lot of the citizens of the city, Steve. We did save a lot of people but… I also don't want to forget about the ones we lost either, you know? I feel like… they need to be counted for something too or else they died for nothing."

"Pietro didn't die for nothing," Steve spoke gently now, his eyes kind and his voice soft. "He died to save you and that kid. He was a sacrifice that he made so you could keep living to fight another day."

Clint knew that now was not the right time to blame himself again, even though it felt like truth in his head. Right now, Steve needed to talk, and Barton wanted to be there for him. Clint would let himself go whenever no one else was around, because that's the kind of guy he was.

"I know…" Clint sighed to himself. "I think that we should be allowed to grieve right now, if you want the truth. I don't think you should let Tony get in your head. We're all going through our own shit right now, and it's not as easy as Stark says to just 'move on' or 'get over it.' It might be easy for Tony, but we aren't Tony. I think that you just let yourself feel whatever you need to feel, Steve."

The other man seemed to take in his words and appeared to relax significantly.

"Thank you, Clint. That's exactly what I needed to hear."

Steve stood up now and placed a hand on the archer's shoulder in gratitude before he gave him a small, sad smile, and then took his leave.

Clint finished off his beer, and then tried to turn his attention back onto the movie when he felt Natasha wake with a start. He jumped as well, feeling her tenseness and feeling her grab the leg of his pants suddenly. He instinctively reached out to her.

"Hey, you're okay. It was just a bad dream. You're okay, Nat," Clint spoke soothingly to her.

Her body heaved as she tried to catch her breath again. She stood up and then fell back on the couch next to Hawkeye, curling her legs into her body as she rested her head on his shoulder, breathing him in and slowly starting to relax again.

"I-It wasn't a dream, Clint. It actually happened."

Barton gently wrapped his arm around to place his hand on the side of her head in a soothing gesture. He had held her like this so many nights before; the gesture came so naturally now. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Natasha bit her lip now and looked down. She finally shook her head no, and he didn't push the matter any further. He knew that if she didn't want to talk about something, she wouldn't talk about it, end of discussion.

They tried to both focus on the movie again but Natasha's eyes slowly closed after another forty-five minutes, and her body eased into position on the couch so her head was on Clint's lap.

Another familiar position for them.

Clint gently stroked her long, red locks with his fingers, silently willingly out any more bad dreams she might have. It wasn't too much longer when he fell asleep as well.

 **O.o.O.o.**

Light had broken through the curtains when Clint awoke suddenly to the sound of yelling and screaming. Natasha woke as well and looked at Clint worriedly, listening to the voices.

"It was your fault, Stark! Don't let anyone convince you it wasn't! It was your fault he died! It was your fault all those innocent people that we couldn't save died!"

Clint felt his stomach sink and he felt sick.

 _Damn it. This was his fault._

"Shit. Let's go break it up before they kill each other," Clint sighed and stood up, waiting for Natasha as she did the same before the two of them headed upstairs hurriedly.

There was the sound of scuffling and shoving going on as Clint and Nat reached the stairs.

"Get your hands off me before I break them off!" Tony threatened, the left hand of his repulsor gloves already on and aiming at Steve.

Bruce was standing on the sidelines looking apprehensive and unsure, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He looked at Clint with apologetic eyes but the archer just shook his head in silent acceptance and understanding; it was never easy to take sides in fights with friends.

"I would love to see you try, Tony… it wouldn't be the first thing you've broken!"

Clint circled around them and was able to see that Steve had already gotten a couple good punches in, breaking Tony's nose, blood running down Tony's chin and shirt.

Tony set his jaw and shoved Steve before holding his hand against the man's chest. "And it won't be the last. This close with a repulsor will destroy you that not even a super serum would be able to save you."

"Knock it off!" Clint finally yelled, sick of the threats and sick of the yelling. "Back to your corners, both of you!"

Tony obediently let go of Steve and took several steps away from him before he put his glove back on his workshop desk. He cast a careful eye at Rogers before he turned to talk to Natasha who had walked over to him, a gently hand on Tony's shoulder.

Clint sighed in relief but realized that he was actually angry at himself. "Did you really have to break the man's nose?"

Steve was breathing heavily and ran his hands through his hair before he started downstairs, Clint close at his heels.

"Hey, talk to me, man! Don't just walk away…."

Once they got to the bottom, Steve turned around so quickly that Clint almost lost his balance.

"You told me to feel whatever it is that I'm feeling. I feel angry, Clint. I feel so angry and I don't know how to deal with it. I feel angry that Tony doesn't feel… anything! He doesn't feel guilty about what happened in Sokovia or the fact that he's responsible for all that destruction…"

Clint searched Steve's tortured eyes. "That's not true. There's just only so much guilt and fear that one man can take. I think he's had his fill for life. He just doesn't want to make it real because if it's real, then it means it happened, and he can't deal with that…"

Steve suddenly grabbed Clint and shoved him hard against the wall, holding him there tightly. "Don't make excuses for Stark. He's responsible for all of it, and I'm tired of excuses. You're supposed to be my friend, Barton…"

Clint coughed a little, the wind having been knocked out of his lungs when he was pushed against the wall by the super soldier. He swallowed hard, waiting for a harder hit to come. "I _am_ your friend…"

"Then start acting like it," Steve growled just as Natasha came down the stairs and stopped, seeing the scene before her eyes and looking worriedly at Clint.

"What are you doing, Cap?" Her voice was gentle and not accusing, perhaps even hurt.

Steve let go of Clint now, maybe realizing what he was doing or maybe just hating to hear disappointment in Natasha's voice. Either way, Clint was able to breathe again but his chest still ached painfully.

Rogers walked away from Hawkeye and then walked out of the Tower.

"He just needs to cool off. Give him a few hours. You all right, Clint?"

The man nodded and rubbed his chest where he had been pinned. He took a deep breath. "How's Stark doing?"

Natasha gave a weak smile and shrugged. "Bruce is patching him up now and trying to calm him down too. He told me that Steve started putting the blame on him for Maximoff's death and just… everything else. Nothing new."

"It was my fault. I told Steve to feel what he was feeling…"

Natasha instantly started to shake her head before she placed both her hands on Clint's face gently. "No, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know that Steve would actually hurt Stark. You couldn't have anticipated that…"

Clint bit his lip and then turned away from her, not believing her words. This was just another thing he had messed up while trying to help someone. He headed into the kitchen and started to make a pot of coffee, just needing a distraction.

Natasha followed him into the room, eyeing him cautiously. After several long minutes of silence, she finally spoke up.

"Talk to me, Clint. Tell me what's on your mind. You haven't been the same since…" She trailed off, maybe instantly realizing how idiotic she sounded; none of them have been the same since the Ultron incident.

Clint poured himself a cup of coffee before also pouring one for her. "Yeah, tell me something I don't know."

Nat reached out and slid the cup of coffee towards her before cupping her hands around it. "Well, you don't know that you need to talk to someone. You don't know that your problems aren't going to go away by themselves, and you also don't know that I'm here for you if you need to talk."

Clint took a sip of his coffee now but avoided her gaze.

"Sounds like I don't know a lot. Or maybe I do know all those things but I just choose not to talk. Talking isn't really my strong suit."

More silence.

More worried looks.

Clint had finished drinking his coffee when he met her eyes. "Please stop looking at me like that, Nat. I'm fine. I'll be fine, okay?" When he saw her nod but reassuringly, he sighed and set his coffee cup down before he poured some more coffee in a travel size thermos. "I'm going to deliver some to Tony."

He didn't wait for her approval before he put the lid on and then started back up the stairs, his chest aching more painfully now; there would definitely be a bruise there by morning if there wasn't one already.

He was tired of seeing her worried looks and talking about talking. He didn't want a therapy session. He knew that Tony didn't want one either, so going to see him was his best bet.

Clint walked inside Tony's work area and smiled weakly when he saw Bruce glance over at him.

"Alright, Tone. I'll talk to you later."

Tony nodded and waved goodbye to Bruce as he walked out of the room. He turned his attention to Clint now and grinned his usual Stark grin.

"Oh, excellent. Just what I needed!"

He held out the thermos to Tony and shrugged. "I was planning on having you share it with Dr. Banner, but apparently he doesn't want to be around me at the moment so I guess it's all yours."

Tony poured the coffee into the small cup the lid formed and took a sip. "Don't take it personal, Barton. He's just trying to keep himself distracted. Probably a good thing for all of us if he does."

Clint smirked. "This coming from someone who was trying to provoke him when you first saw him."

Tony chuckled now before drinking more coffee. The two men sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the air light between them. This was the way Clint liked it. There was no pressure to pretend to be okay or to talk about anything.

If he was being honest, Clint didn't want anything more than to take out his hearing aids so he could let the silence drown him. He wouldn't have to listen to yelling or the blame or anything else. He loved Natasha but even she got annoying after a while.

"At least he broke your nose clean. It'll heal right," Clint laughed softly.

Tony smirked and nodded. "Yup, I guess it will. Did you really come up here to talk about my beating or is there actually anything I can help you with?"

Clint looked down at his hands, fighting the urge to leave the room.

"Get me hearing aids I don't have to ever put in."

Tony's smirk fell and his face contorted into curiosity. "Is it easier for you use sign language?"

"Only if whoever I'm talking to knows how to use it too. I can read lips though. That's probably easier than using sign language with someone who doesn't know it," Clint replied honestly.

Tony nodded in interest. "You could get a cochlear implant."

The archer laughed aloud now, something he wasn't used to doing. "What, and not be able to ever take them out? How is that a better option?"

Tony smiled a bit now. "You've got a point there, Barton. Just a suggestion. I know qualified people that could do it for you. Just wanted to see where you landed on the subject."

Clint sighed softly, nodding in understanding.

"I get what you're trying to do for me. I appreciate it, Stark."

Tony nodded once now and cleared his throat. "Alright, well… now that that's out of the way, get out…I mean, if it wouldn't horribly inconvenience you. I was attempting to work on something when Steve interrupted me earlier."

Clint stood up and started towards the door. "It's not another homicidal robot, is it?"

Tony groaned and then smirked at him. "I have a feeling that you all are never going to let that go, are you?" When Clint just smirked and shrugged back, Tony added, "Thanks for the caffeine!"

Clint waved his hand in reply and then started to head towards his bedroom before he stripped his clothes and walked into his own bathroom. He started to run the bath before he took out his hearing aids and lay them on the sink.

Finally, silence.

Just the way he liked it. He let his body sink down under the water, closing his eyes.

" _My son! He was in the market…"_

 _Clint turned in the direction of where the market used to be and saw a small figure crouched down, terrified. He had to be an Avenger. He had to do his job. He hurried off the transporter and back to the rubble-covered street._

 _He hurried towards the boy at the same he saw the stolen Quinjet before he heard it. He had practically thrown himself over the boy as he heard the shots of the massive attached gun firing at him._

 _He was dead._

 _There was no way in hell he couldn't be._

 _Then he stood up after realizing he was still alive. He then saw the reason for being alive. Because Quicksilver was dead and riddled with bullets that he couldn't outrun._

 _Or rather bullets he chose not to outrun in order to save Clint._

He forced his head back above the water and blinked when he saw Natasha shouting his name at him.

Clint sighed in frustration now and started to sign angrily, making sure it touched his facial features for emphasis.

 _\ Why can't I get two minutes to myself? /_

Natasha raised her eyebrows at him now and shook her head before she sighed herself. At least Clint didn't need to put his hearing aids back in; he preferred to sign if he had the choice. Natasha had known him long enough to have learned how to sign back and forth with him to the point where it had become annoying.

\ _Because you're suffering in silence. Stop treating me like I'm an idiot! /_ Natasha signed back, slightly less angrily.

Clint hated seeing Natasha so genuinely frustrated at him. It just made him feel worse, but of course he wouldn't tell her that. He ran his wet hands through his blonde hair. A part of him wanted to forget about signing and try to read her lips but it was touch and go sometimes.

\ _I told you I'm fine, Natasha. Just leave me alone. /_

She shook her head before she looked down at her hands. She seemed to be debating what to say next. Nat looked back up at him now.

\ _I'll leave you alone if you tell me one thing that is bothering you. We won't talk about it right now but we will talk about it after you're done. /_

Clint thought for a minute.

He could make something up but this wasn't just anyone he was talking to, or rather, signing with. If this wasn't Natasha, Clint would lie in a heartbeat or tell them to get the hell out and leave him alone. He had a closer connection to her than he ever had with another living person.

\ _I killed Pietro. I got him killed. My fault. All my fault. /_

He felt hot tears running down his face and knew the simple contortions of his facial muscles gave him away. He tried to force back a sob but it escaped suddenly and he imagined it made an echo off the bathroom walls.

Natasha looked sad and conflicted. He could tell she was fighting herself not to discuss it right now. She bit her lip before she knelt on the tiled floor and moved her lips slowly and carefully. It was slow enough for Clint to read her lips.

 _Not your fault. Accident._

She leaned in to him now and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not caring about getting wet. He placed a hand on her arms before resting his head against her own forehead.

"Thank you," he spoke, feeling the vibration of his vocal cords although he couldn't actually hear himself.

She kissed his forehead and lingered there for a few moments before she let go of him and stood back up before she left the bathroom.

Clint rubbed his eyes with his palms now and groaned in agony.

He shouldn't had told her that.

Now she was going to be watching him like a hawk. He swallowed hard before he finished up his bath and got out, put his hearing aids back in, and wrapped his towel around his waist as he entered his bedroom. He pulled on clean boxers and t-shirt before he pulled on his denim pants just as Natasha opened the door slowly and walked in, closing it again.

He looked up and swallowed hard, waiting for her to say something.

Natasha moved closer to him, her eyes full of sympathy. "Pietro died saving you and that boy. It wasn't your fault. He didn't have to be your shield but he did it because he respected you. He respected the hell out of you, Clint."

"If I hadn't gone out there to save the boy –"

Nat's body stiffened. "Then you wouldn't be able to call yourself an Avenger. It's what we do. We save lives. You did it based on instinct, and that's never the wrong thing to do. You did it because you knew that you needed to save him. You both saved somebody, Clint."

Clint wanted to rip his hearing aids out again, feeling like he was living in perpetual Hell. He clenched his jaw in anguish and then felt Natasha's arms around his body again, this time around his waist. He wrapped his own arms around her now, breathing her in.

"He was just a kid, Nat. He was an annoying little shit but he didn't deserve to die," he had meant to sound joking but instead it came out almost in a gasp as he felt more tears well in his eyes.

He wanted to scream and yell and break everything.

It wasn't fair that Clint had survived and Pietro had died. Pietro had a sister and a whole life ahead of him.

She reached up and placed her hands on his cheeks again, gently thumbing his skin. "I know… but no matter what you think, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't the boy's fault. It was Ultron's fault."

"It was Stark's fault…" Clint found himself saying before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

Natasha moved her hands back down to his waist and searched his eyes, shaking her head. "No… I know it's difficult, but… we can't keep blaming Tony for what happened. It's too easy to do and if we all do it, then Tony doesn't stand a chance in his own place. Steve and Bruce will kill him, and that'll be the end of the Avengers as we know it. We can't turn on each other, Clint. Not right now. Not when we're all falling apart at the seams."

He knew she was right, and he knew that he needed to listen to her but his mind was screaming. It was easier to blame Tony for all of it. Clint placed his hands on her shoulders and sighed heavily.

"What do I do, Nat?"

She suddenly leaned back from him and pulled off her shirt and started to kiss him. Clint would have been surprised any other time but this had become a regular event between them. Ever since Budapest, and New York, sleeping together had become routine for them. Whether he needed her, which was the most common scenario, or if she needed him, they were always there for each other.

He pulled his shirt off before removing his pants and then hers, continuing to passionately kiss her until he gently laid her on the bed. It wasn't long before they were both out of their under clothes, and his skin was pressed against hers. She switched positions with him, which of course he let her, and continued their lovemaking as sweat glistened their skin.

He moaned underneath her body, caressing her thighs gently. He let himself feel this amazing bliss, because he knew that it wouldn't be long before he felt shitty again.

About twenty-five minutes later, he felt the ecstasy take hold of him and they both moaned together, wrapping their arms around each other's' bodies. She rolled off of him now and lay beside him on the bed, the two of them breathing heavily.

Clint closed his eyes, trying his best to stay in this moment forever, never wanting to let go. These were the moments he lived for when he believed there was nothing else left on this earth. These moments made him remember there were people who still cared about him. He wrapped his arms around her again and kissed her hair that smelled like cherries, but then she slipped away from him, a small smile on her face.

"Should I leave some money on the dresser for you?" He teased, smirking.

She smirked back as she quickly got her clothes back on and started for the door. "You can't afford me, Hawkeye."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately. Thanks for the talk…"

She fixed her hair before she playfully narrowed her eyes at him. "Talk's not over. Don't think you can get away with not talking. I'm not an idiot. I know that you're not easily convinced."

Clint nodded now knowingly, hating and loving that she could read him so well.

"See you later, Black Widow."

She waved goodbye before slipping out of the room, leaving Clint alone with his thoughts again. He sighed and took a quick shower before slipping his clothes back on again. He looked at himself in the mirror, and suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to punch his reflection.

Well, the sex was great while it lasted, but it certainly isn't a cure all.


	4. No Place In The World

**A/N:** My apologies for not posting a new chapter for a couple weeks. I've been working on my other Hawkeye story _**Trying to Survive**_ **.**

So here's a new chapter for anyone who's still reading it. Happy V-Day!

* * *

Chapter 4: No Place In The World

. . .

 _Gunfire coming from the stolen Quinjet._

 _Clint covered the small boy with his entire body, hoping the bullets would hit him before they hit the innocent child. He had lived a decent life._

 _Then, the sound of a gasp, and then soft groaning when the gunfire was over._

 _He looked behind him, and saw a mortally wounded Pietro Maximoff, crimson soaking through his shirt where he had been hit._

" _I did not see that coming…"Pietro gasped in his heavy accent before falling to the ground, dead._

Clint shot upright out of his nightmare with a scream he only felt and didn't hear, his hands gripping the bedsheets tightly so hard, his knuckles were white. He struggled to catch his breath, looking around in the darkness of his room.

He glanced at the clock that read 5:45 a.m. in neon green letters and then put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes, knowing he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Clint reached over and as soon as he had stuffed his left hearing aid in, a voice startled him.

"Do you require assistance, Mr. Barton? My readings indicate your heartrate is slightly erratic."

Clint sighed and then stuffed his other hearing aid into his ear. "Thanks, Jarvis, b-but I'm all right."

"Very well, sir. Might I at least suggest calming breathing exercises to help you?"

Clint internally cursed the AI in his head. If it wasn't Natasha trying to help him, it was the invisible hand of Tony Stark. He shook his head, and then realized that Jarvis might not be able to see him. "That's okay, I know all the breathing exercises."

Jarvis was silent now and left Clint alone with his thoughts.

He stood up and put his pajamas and dirty clothes in a small pile by the bathroom door before he jumped in the shower. He let the hot water ease his tense muscles and washed himself up before he heard a noise and shut the water off. He towel dried himself before wrapping the towel around his waist and venturing back into his bedroom.

The pile of dirty clothes had disappeared and he saw Natasha sitting on his bed, reading a book that may or may not have been from Tony's personal library.

She looked up when he came out and smiled gently. "Hey… nice shower?"

Clint smiled weakly back and shrugged. "Might've been nicer if you had joined me."

"Oh, it most definitely would have, but… I guess our moment is gone," Natasha teased, setting her book on the bed.

Clint chuckled and then walked over to the dresser and grabbed his boxers before he pulled them on, and then dropped his towel to the floor. "What book are you reading?"

"It's one of Shellhead's books. I didn't think I would find another genius scientist interesting but Hawking is definitely interesting. It's called 'A Brief History of Time.' Tony must have told Jarvis to suggest it to me, because he said that it would help me find my place in the world," Nat laughed weakly.

"And… where is your place in the world?" Clint asked, swallowing hard.

He was now remembering something that his friend had been told before in the Red Room. A daily statement she was supposed to parrot back methodically every time she was asked. He felt his stomach clench, feeling like it was something that he truly felt right now.

 _I have no place in the world._

She looked at him a little bit fearfully, maybe having a good feeling what he was thinking, and when he sat down beside her after pulling on his jeans, she leaned against his shoulder.

"Here, with you… and the rest of the guys. Where is your place in the world, Barton?"

He wanted to say here, with her, but it wasn't what he truly felt so he just said what he had been thinking.

"Nowhere. I have no place in the world," Clint answered, almost inaudibly.

Hearing her own words made her sit up and look at him with worried eyes, shaking her head. "Don't say that, Clint. You know that isn't true," When he didn't say anything, she then added, "Your place is here with all of us, with the Avengers."

Clint sighed now, shaking his head. "Maybe not."

Natasha tensed now. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The archer stood up now and started looking around for his t-shirt he favored. "I don't know, Nat. Maybe I just don't deserve to be… alive anymore. Maybe Ultron stealing the Quinjet in Sokovia was a sign that I was supposed to die. I don't know," he said again shyly. "I'm just talking…"

When he pulled his shirt on and forced himself to look back at her, he saw hurt in her eyes.

"Your 'talking' sounds a hell of a lot like you sounding suicidal. Tell me you don't mean this. Tell me that it's all just bullshit and that you want to live, Clint. Please…"

He hated himself for being so selfish, but he couldn't help what the depression and nightmares were making him feel. He couldn't deny any of it.

"I don't want to live though, Nat. I just… can't. I'm sick of being alive when that kid is dead, and he had his whole goddamn life ahead of him. What's my life worth, really? If you think about it, I mean," Clint sighed tiredly.

"It's worth a lot to me, and all your friends. We all care about you, Clint," she stood up now, trying to keep herself pulled together.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, you all care because we're teammates. If I died, then you would have one less person to watch your back! That's all it is."

"If you want to stay locked up in your room with your lying thoughts, then fine, but don't think for one second that none of us wouldn't die for you! Because we would. If it was life or death, we would save you even if it meant us dying, and that's already happened! Pietro died so you could live, so there's your proof of your place in the world, Clint… you need to open your eyes and see it," Natasha grabbed her book now and left his room, quietly shutting the door as to not wake the other Avengers.

Clint listened as her words repeated themselves in her head but it just didn't sink in. Pietro hadn't even officially become an Avenger yet. He had just done something to make up for the mistake he and his sister had caused earlier on. He was trying to redeem himself.

He decided to take Natasha's advice and stayed holed up in the room, listening to the radio when he had lay back in bed again. He waited a few hours before he forced himself to emerge again but this time, he decided to take the elevator all the way up to the roof.

Once the doors closed and the elevator drove upwards, he could feel himself ironically feeling lower and lower with every floor. Natasha was wrong. He had no place. He had nothing. He had a shitty apartment in Brooklyn that he would probably die in, he had the guilt of a young man on his conscious unmercifully, and he had a never-ending vicious circle of nightmares that would plague him forever.

He was becoming more and more anxious, until a voice chimed in.

"It has come to my attention that you are in distress. Would you like me to notify the others?"

"No," Clint ordered simply.

"Your tone indicates that you might be acting clearly on impulse and thereby, a possible threat to yourself. In cases such as these, my protocols are overwritten and I am to notify Mr. Stark."

"Whatever," Clint whispered, tears now making trails down his cheeks. "I don't care anymore."

There was no answer from the AI again and Clint knew his time was limited. The doors opened at the roof and then closed again. He started moving towards the edge, letting the morning sun hit his face. Right now, in the semi-early hours, the city looked beautiful. It seemed a shame that he couldn't feel this beautiful all the time.

He found himself sobbing now once he knelt down on the absolute edge of Stark Tower, looking down at the people below. He wasn't thinking about those poor peoples' reactions when they saw him, or the mess he would make. Right now random thoughts starting coming to his head, like how it was illegal to try to kill yourself.

What kind of idiot made that law?

They couldn't arrest you if you succeeded. He suddenly laughed through his sobbing at that thought but then the reality of his own situation overrode those laughable thoughts. He wiped his face with his hand and then stood up. This was one time he wasn't going to be stealthy or try to cling onto something on the way down.

No, he would die like everyone else. He would let himself let go of everything.

This was it.

Suddenly, the elevator door opened again and Tony, Bruce, and Nat all came out, shocked and terrified looks on their faces. Tony was the first one to move towards Clint slowly, and speak.

"Whoa, hey. Jarvis told me you weren't in the best state of mind right now… thought I'd come up and see ya," he spoke softly.

Clint motioned with one hand. "No! Don't come c-closer to me! Just… s-stay where you are, all of you…" He watched as they stopped moving and Tony put up his hands in surrender.

"What are you doing, Barton? Let's just… be calm and rational about this. Talk to me. Talk to us."

Clint let out a sob again now and shook his head, feeling dizzy with distress and his own madness he was feeling. "I-I don't want to talk… about a-anything, anymore. T-Talking doesn't do shit. I just… I just w-want to make it all stop…"

He knew he was sounding a lot like an after school special right now but he didn't care. Suicide wasn't supposed to be a selfless or dignified act. The whole point was that it was selfish, and that he was feeling tortured by demons he couldn't control.

Tony nodded now and inched a smidge closer now, watching Clint carefully as he did so. "Okay, I hear you. I get it. I do. I don't like talking about that kind of stuff either, but… it's occurring to me more and more recently that maybe we need to talk about it. Not talking about it isn't healthy, is it? Look at where you are, Barton."

Clint was still crying but he was listening. He shook his head. "Y-You don't get it… I don't _want_ to talk about i-it! I just… want it a-all to end. I want t-the nightmares t-to stop… I can't… I can't do this a-anymore… I can't…"

He watched now as Bruce placed an arm in front of Tony gently and took small, cautious steps towards Clint. When Clint stepped back, he realized he had run out of balcony and placed his foot back next to his other one, causing the doctor to stop walking towards him but he still stood in front of the others.

"Clint, what you're feeling is survivor's guilt. It's very common in people who have been in similar situations," Bruce soothed. "I know you must be in a lot of pain right now, but… we can help you."

"I don't deserve to b-be helped, Bruce! I-I don't… I'm not… a part of a-anything… I don't have a p-place in the w-world," he saw Natasha flinch now. "I… I'm worthless. I'm not… s-special like the rest of y-you."

Tony laughed a little now. "I wouldn't be special if I wasn't smart and if I hadn't inherited my father's company, Barton… I'm only special because I know tech. That's not so amazing, really."

The archer sniffled and roughly wiped his tears with his palm again, feeling embarrassed and pathetic he was crying so hard. It was like everything he had been feeling since Sokovia was just coming out full-force.

"You're special, Clint," Nat spoke up now, taking one step forward towards him. "You're an amazing archer, an all-around great guy… you've saved my ass more times than I'd like to admit," she cracked a small smirk.

"You saved that boy, Clint," Tony conceded. "If you hadn't gone out there into that chaos and thrown yourself on top of him, he would've died, and… if you jump right now, then that means that Maximoff died for nothing."

Clint swallowed hard, letting their words sink in. "I-I'm… not v-valuable…"

Bruce instantly started shaking his head now.

"You're just as valuable as any of us, man. If it hadn't been for you, we'd probably all be dead. You've protected us without even realizing it. You've put your own life on the line to help our cause. That's teamwork. You're always there for any of us, whenever we need a laugh, or someone just to talk to. Well we're returning the favor now," Bruce stated, taking another step towards him.

Clint wasn't sure if he believed what he said, but he could appreciate the fact that he had even said it at all. It was nice to know that he might not be a completely useless waste of space in their lives. He bit back a sob.

"I… I got Pietro killed. If… if I hadn't gone out to save the boy, maybe he wouldn't have felt the need to protect me."

"Stop looking for reasons to blame yourself," Tony gently ordered with a softness in his eyes that Clint had never seen before. "It wasn't your fault. He would've gone out there himself to save that kid, and you know it. Either way, he would have saved someone, and no matter how you look at this, it would've ended in the same outcome."

Clint thought about this for a moment, feeling a gentle wind dancing around his body as he stood there at the edge of the building. Maybe Stark had a point. Maybe it would've ended the same way, no matter what.

Maybe he would give his life another chance.

He had started to step forward towards his friends but his shoe slipped and everything slowed down. He saw Bruce, Tony, and Nat all run forward to try to save him but his body gave way into gravity, and he fell back, back… off the edge and he could feel himself hurling towards the ground.

He closed his eyes.

He had fucked up and now he was going to pay for it.

Well at least it would be the last time he messed up his life.

But the hard landing never came and he opened his eyes to see Steve falling with him, Clint in his arms, and the two of them tumbling to the ground. If it had been anyone else, Clint probably would have crushed them to a pulp on impact but with Steve, their bodies had been thrown to the ground with a surprisingly soft _thud_.

Steve was breathing heavily, perhaps out of fear of his friend almost dying on the pavement. The two of them ignored the clapping of the people who had seen this act and then disappeared back inside Stark Tower.

Steve placed a firm hand on Clint's shoulder now and gently squeezed. "You okay?"

Clint nodded. "Yeah, thanks. I was wondering why you weren't on the roof with the others. Now I know."

Steve pressed his head against the archer's now and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "I'm glad you're all right. Please don't ever do that again. I might actually die of a heart attack."

Clint leaned into him and felt his body melt as Steve wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Steve had never hugged him before. This was something new. He welcomed it and wrapped an arm around Steve as well, or at least as far as his own arm would go.

It wasn't long before the others came back down and then took turns giving Clint Barton firm embraces and pats on his back, Nat's embrace lasting longer than the others'. He buried his face into her shoulder and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, Clint Barton," she scolded weakly into his chest.

"To be fair, I didn't jump. I fell."

Natasha punched his arm now and raised her eyebrows. "Still uncool."

"Sorry."

She sighed and then started to head towards the workout room to punch out the last of her aggression. He watched her leave, and then watched as Bruce walked up to him.

"Come on. Let's go up to my lab and talk for a bit," he didn't give Clint any room for argument as he started to lead him towards the elevator.

"I don't want to talk about this right now, Bruce."

"Too bad, you need to. No more holding anything in. We're a team and we need to know everything about each other, that includes possible triggers and our past. It'll be fine, I promise."

Clint was too mentally exhausted to object anymore so he sighed and watched from inside the elevator as Stark waved goodbye and the doors closed.


	5. Talking & Crying

A/N: So I'm not completely happy with this chapter but I just need to get it on here. I'm hoping the next one will be better but it might not be for awhile, depending. I'm focused on other fics at the moment.

* * *

Chapter 5: Talking & Crying

. . .

Clint stood awkwardly in the scientist's lab as he sat in a nearby chair before he gestured for Clint to sit as well. Once he did, Bruce smiled warmly at him.

"So… do you want to talk about what happened earlier? On the roof?"

Clint sighed through his nose and felt a lump in his throat.

"No, not really, Banner."

Bruce didn't look deterred. He just nodded, smirking slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. "You were up on that roof looking pretty distressed. You were crying. You must have been having some pretty dark thoughts…"

Clint looked up at him now with a sideways look. "I thought you weren't that kind of doctor."

Bruce chuckled and shrugged.

"I'm not, but I still have knowledge of basic psychology. You need to talk to someone, Clint. Being alone and keeping to yourself isn't working for you. We don't want to lose you, man."

Clint looked back down at his lap and leaned back in the chair, rubbing his temple. He didn't want to do this. "I don't need a shrink. I need a friend right now, Bruce."

The doctor put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, all right. Just talk to me, man. I'm right here, I'm listening. Whatever you want to say."

The archer ran a hand through his hair, quiet for several moments as he stared out the window. He was fighting the urge to stand up and walk out. If this was anyone else, he might have done just that. He forced himself to look back at Bruce.

"Why don't you want to kill yourself anymore? I mean… you told us how you had tried to shoot yourself and then the Other Guy spat out the bullets. Have you wanted to keep trying?" Clint asked as delicately as he could.

Bruce shrugged again, a sympathetic smile still on his face. "I've thought about it from time to time, but then I figure, what's the point if the Hulk is going to make an appearance and stop me from succeeding? I mean… before, when I first attempted, I was feeling so lost and so alone. I was a monster. What good could I possibly have on the world?"

"You don't feel that way anymore?"

Bruce searched Clint's eyes. "Sometimes, when I cause more havoc than usual, but… for the most part, I feel like I can still help people that need help. Before, I had no control over it, but now… Tony's helped me get some control over the Hulk. I'm not alone anymore. I opened up to people and I found help."

Clint smirked slightly, quiet for a while. He didn't want to open up, to anyone. He didn't want help. He just wanted to stop living. At least if he died, he wouldn't have to live with the guilt he felt anymore.

"Come on, man. Give me something, anything. Let me in."

Clint stood up now. "No… I'm sorry, but no. I don't want to do this." He started towards the door when he felt Bruce grab his arm.

"Hey, Clint. Come on… don't leave. Why don't want you want help? There are people around you that care about you and you just don't give a shit."

The archer whipped around now and ripped his arm away from Bruce's hold. "No! I don't want help! I don't give a shit because I'm sick of all of this! I'm sick of everyone acting normal like nothing ever happened!"

He didn't mean for it to happen but his felt tears sting his eyes.

Clint's words made Bruce stiffen slightly and take a step back to give him room. "Is that why you were on the roof, Clint? Because of what happened to Pietro Maximoff?"

Clint swallowed back a sob and he weakly shook his head before he started to back out of the room. He quickly made his way into the elevator, heading towards his room when he heard Jarvis' voice echo in the elevator with him.

" _Pardon me, Mr. Barton, but Mr. Stark would like a word with you. What shall I tell him?"_

Clint took a shaky breath, letting the tears fall freely.

"You can tell him t-to fuck off, Jarvis…"

" _I do not believe that he would take kindly to that answer…"_

The elevator doors opened at the room floor and he saw Tony standing there, looking calm. He tried to walk around the man when he suddenly felt himself be pulled into a firm hug, and then felt Tony pat him comfortingly on the back, but did not let go of him.

"C'mon, man… j-just let go of me…" Clint could feel his shoulders shaking and he felt ashamed that he was quietly sobbing against the genius.

Tony's arms remained around him, and, if anything, they just gripped him tighter. "No, sorry, but I won't do that, Barton. You've been bottling everything inside of you… and I know what that's like. I feel the guilt too," he spoke in a near whisper.

Clint suddenly felt the dam completely break and he felt his legs give out from under him. He would have fallen to the floor if Stark hadn't been holding him up. "I-It was my fault… i-if I hadn't gone out for that boy –"

"Shut up, Barton," Tony said not unkindly. "If you hadn't gone out there to save that kid, he would've died and you would be still be blaming yourself anyway. You did what you did, and Maximoff didn't have to go out there and protect the two of you, but he did."

Clint gripped Tony's arm as he continued to cry against the other man. "W-Why can't you j-just let me die t-then…? It b-benefits no one that I-I'm still alive…"

Stark could feel his heart break and he gently set Clint down on the floor, but knelt down with him. "It benefits me, and you can be damn sure it benefits everyone else. You're an asset as an Avenger, and as a friend. I can't let you die because… if you took a flying leap right off this building, then Maximoff died for nothing. He died so you could keep living. You'd be doing him a disservice if you let yourself die too."

Clint knew that what Tony was saying made perfect sense, and he also knew he was right, but it didn't stop the archer from the feelings he felt inside. The suicidal urges that were still present, the anger he felt at himself, the longing to be wherever the Maximoff kid was now.

He felt he deserved that much.

Sobs racked his body and he pressed his forehead against Stark's chest, feeling the man pat his back soothingly, like a brother would. He cried until his ribs hurt and he felt mentally and physically exhausted, and then he turned his body and rested his head against the hallway support, closing his eyes.

Tony watched his friend carefully. "Do you want me to get Nat?"

Clint contemplated this before he shook his head. "I'm going to go lay in bed, possibly sleep." After a couple minutes, he forced himself up onto his feet and without waiting to hear what was going to come out of Tony's mouth next, he headed up to his floor.

He closed the door and sunk into his bed and tried to sleep but to no avail. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, he cleared his throat groggily. "Jarvis, can you please get Nat up here?"

" _Of course, Mr. Barton…"_ There was a pause and then the AI's voice again. _"She is on her way up, sir."_

"Thanks, Jarvis," Clint said meaningfully before he took out his hearing aids and set them on the bedside table, finding relief in not having the metal pieces in his ears anymore. Silence. It was more relaxing than he could say.

Natasha opened the door without waiting to be let in, and then closed it behind her. She glanced at the hearing aids on the table before she brought her hands up to sign to him.

 _ **/**_ _Tony told me what happened. Let's talk._ _ **\**_

Clint sighed to himself and shook his head.

 _ **/**_ _No. Not about that. Exhausted._ _ **\**_

Natasha shook he head now and made a flat O shape with her fingers against her nose and then spread her fingers apart as her hand came down.

 _ **/**_ _Don't care. We need to talk about what happened earlier._ _ **\**_

Clint searched her worried face before he motioned for her to lay next to him on the bed. When she did so, he took her hand in his and held it before he brought it up and kissed the top of her hand.

"I just want the guilt to go away, Nat," Clint spoke aloud, hearing the vibrations of the words in his ears.

She turned onto her side now and looked at him with soft eyes before she leaned in and pressed her lips against his, gently placing a hand on his cheek and caressed it. He reached up and let his hand trace her jawline as he kissed her back, and then searched her face, trying to memorize the details in it that he didn't notice before when he saw her lips move.

He couldn't make out everything but he recognized the words "Don't," "Die," and "Barton."

Clint swallowed hard and then gently pulled her down so he could wrap his arms around her body before he planted a kiss to her hair. She rested her head on his chest and the two of them just lay there for the longest time before her head perked up and then she looked down at Clint with soft eyes.

He watched as she made the gesture for "eat" with her fingers and he nodded before rolling over and grabbing his hearing aids and shoving them back into his ears carefully. He waited until he readjusted to the sounds of his surrounds before he moved is legs over the bed and rubbed at his eyes with his palms.

"Did you really fall, or was that a suicide attempt earlier?" Natasha's voice was firm but curious and she forced him to meet her eyes.

Clint fought the urge to look away. "It started out as a suicide attempt. I had my heart set on it when I went up there, but… you all were able to talk me out of it when I slipped and fell. I was really about to get off the balcony."

He saw the heartbreak in her eyes and she took a shaky breath. "You said that you had no place in the world… you're wrong. I told you before; your place is here with us. You don't realize it but everyone here, including myself, would be so completely lost without you."

Clint scoffed and shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm serious, Clint. Don't think for one second that they wouldn't blame themselves if you had really jumped. We've all been caught up in our own issues that it's been difficult to focus on each other for more than five minutes at a time," Natasha replied regretfully.

" _Excuse me, Miss. Romanoff, but Captain Rogers is downstairs requesting your and Mr. Barton's presence for dinner."_

She glanced upwards at the ceiling, where she assumed one of Jarvis' sensors were. "Thank you, J. Tell him that we'll be down soon."

" _Consider it done."_

Clint took a deep breath and looked back at her. "What do we do now?"

"We take things an hour at a time," she answered gently, placing her head on his shoulder as she wrapped her arm around his back. "After something like this, after everything you've been feeling lately, that's all you can do. When you need help, ask for it. You know that Stark feels similar to how you're feeling now. He knows Sokovia is his fault. He'll have that on his shoulders forever. Try and not to push him away."

Clint listened and nodded in understanding. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair before he saw Nat also stand up.

"Ready to get some dinner?"

"Yeah," Clint agreed, nodding. "I'm starving."

He followed Nat into the elevator and took it downstairs, taking a deep breath to prepare himself to eat with everyone. He felt her give his side a playful pinch before she chuckled and smiled warmly at him. Clint found himself feeling so grateful for her. He honestly didn't know how she could have such an effect on him, and help turn him around in such a short period of time, but he wasn't one to question it. He reached out and tickled her side quickly before she laughed aloud now and moved away from him just as they reached the bottom and the doors opened up.

"Careful or else I'll have to snap your neck with my thighs, Clint Barton…"

He smirked and chuckled.

"I wouldn't mind seeing that."


	6. Nobody's Fault But Mine

**A/N** : This chapter is dedicated to **Dante 101** because I'm dumb and I honestly wouldn't have thought to involve Wanda Maximoff in this story before I saw this person's comment, so thank you for the inspiration!

Also, I'm aware that Jarvis became The Vision but I am choosing to keep the AI intact instead. 

* * *

Chapter Six: Nobody's Fault But Mine

. . .

Dinner was a somewhat quiet affair with occasional small talk, mostly about new inventions Tony and Bruce were working on, or new tech Tony was working on for the team. Steve made suggestions of new tech for Tony that didn't involve anyone getting hurt. Clint listened but kept to himself as he eat until there was a knock at the door.

"Jarvis?" Tony asked, expectantly.

" _It appears to be Miss Wanda Maximoff, sir. Shall I allow her inside?"_

Clint felt nauseous and pushed his plate away. Great. The sister of the brother he had gotten killed was here now, obviously to torture him. There was no escape from it. It just never ended.

Tony glanced over at the archer who was looking more than uneasy in his chair and then looked over at Natasha, who gave a small nod.

"Yes, show her inside."

The AI was quiet and it wasn't long before they heard soft footsteps of boot heels coming into the kitchen where they all sat. Steve was the first one who stood up before he walked over and wrapped his arms around her in welcome.

"It's good to see you again, Wanda," he greeted, smiling at her.

She gave a small, weak smile back as she hugged him back and took turns greeting the others. Clint had forced himself to stand up and also embrace the female Maximoff before he sat back down again.

"Please, join us," Tony gestured to the empty seat in between Steve and Clint. "I'll get you some dinner."

She raised her hand and shook her head. "No, please. I've already eaten, but please continue." She looked over at Clint who appeared to be trying to avoid eye contact with her any way he could.

Natasha could sense the tension but knew how Wanda would interpret Clint's silence. She cleared her throat and gave the Scarlet Witch a warm smile.

"What have you been up to lately, Wanda?" She stood up and started to make a small pot of coffee using Tony's expensive coffee maker.

"Yeah," Steve agreed after swallowing a forkful of pasta. "What's new in your world?"

Wanda adjusted her shirt after she made herself comfortable and gave Clint a sideways glance before she focused on Steve again. She was quiet for several moments, possibly trying to choose her words carefully. "After the funeral, I decided to find a place close to here to live. I did not want to be all alone."

Steve gave her a sympathetic look while Tony and Clint both looked guilty as sin. Natasha poured a cup of coffee for Wanda before she walked over and set it in front of her and then started pouring some for everyone else.

"That's probably a good idea. I remember how alone I felt when I thought I lost Bucky. It was so quiet, I hated it. I just wanted to scream just to fill out the silence," Steve chuckled.

It was Wanda's turn to give him a sympathetic look and to Clint's surprise, it was Tony's voice that was heard next.

"You're always welcome to live here with the rest of us, free of charge," the inventor offered as he sipped his coffee.

Tony watched next as Wanda cast weary looks in Clint's direction before he looked back at Stark. "Thank you. That's… very kind of you, Stark, but… I don't think that would work out very well," Wanda replied in her Sokovian accent. "I've actually come around to talk to Clint, if that is all right."

Clint perked up at the sound of his name and he stiffened, wondering what would be his fate. He swallowed hard and nodded. "We can talk right now, in private, if you like?"

She smiled at him softly and nodded as she stood up, taking her cup of coffee with her. "That would be nice, thank you."

"Sure thing. Follow me…" He led Wanda towards the elevators and took it up to his room before he walked inside but left the door open.

She looked around curiously at his room and then pointed to her own ears while looking at his. "You have hearing aids. Why did you not have them before?"

Clint smirked and shrugged. "I had some before but they were smaller and I just mostly relied on the ones we used to communicate to each other on our missions. These are courtesy of Stark tech. He made them for me."

She nodded in understanding and then searched his face for a long time before she spoke again. "How are you doing, Clint?"

He shrugged again, not wanting to tell her the truth. She was the one who lost someone she loved on their last mission together. This wasn't about him. He gave an unsure look before he cleared his throat nervously and decided to change the subject. "What did you want to talk to me about, Wanda?"

She bit her lip and moved over to sit on his bed before looking down into her coffee. "I have thought a lot about what happened to my brother since Sokovia. I also realize that I have more questions than answers, and… that is why I need to talk to you, Clint."

"Why me?"

 _Indeed, why me?_

She took a small drink of coffee before she took a deep breath and looked up at him with soft eyes. "You were the last person to see him, and… you witnessed his death."

She said this so matter-of-factly that Clint tried not to be paranoid that she was accusing him of something. He swallowed hard and felt his chest tighten. He didn't want to have this conversation with her, not right now. Not ever.

"He was a good man, Wanda. He sacrificed himself for… both of us."

She nodded. "Yes, I remember being told that there was a boy involved too. No one has told me exactly what happened, Clint, and I would like to know right now. I only know that he protected a boy and then he was shot, but that's all I've been told. Will you give me the whole story, please?"

He ran his hands through his dark hair, quiet for a long time. He saw Pietro's death on a constant loop every time he closed his eyes at night. He saw everything, in vivid fucking detail. He was sick of reliving his nightmare, but when he looked at the kid's sister, he knew that she needed closure. She had a right to know exactly what had happened. She didn't deserve to be kept in the dark.

He tried to push past the panic he was feeling in his whole body. He reached over and placed a comforting hand on Wanda's back before he began.

"I-It…was my fault. I saw a young boy, out in the marketplace, or… what was the marketplace before it was reduced to rubble, and he was trapped. I… I was already on the jet in one of the cages but I jumped off and I headed towards the boy. I had just freed him when I heard the Quinjet and… Ultron had control of everything. He… He started shooting at us, and I-I threw my body over the boy to protect him…" Clint trailed off, realizing there were tears in his eyes and he suddenly let out loud sob.

This was the worst idea ever. Why did he agree to talk to her about this? He should've said no. He should've _just refused_.

She turned to face him and she placed her own hand on his shoulder before scooting closer to him. Her eyes were filled with confusion but she didn't laugh at him. "It's okay. You're doing fine… continue," she encouraged instead.

Clint swallowed back a second sob, taking a moment to compose himself again. "Pietro ran behind us and… he saved both me and the b-boy, but he took all the shots… I turned around and… a-and I saw him, doubled o-over…"

He didn't tell her what he had said to him. His last words. They were still too painful for Clint to hear. It had been a running gag between the two of them throughout their whole mission and it had been the last cut in Clint to hear the words that still echoed in his nightmares.

" _I did not see that coming."_

He saw tears start to glisten in her own eyes now but she somehow was managing to keep her composure. "I… f-felt him die. It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. So… I ripped Ultron's heart out as well. It seemed fitting."

Clint hadn't known that part. He felt so proud of her in that moment. She got her revenge on Ultron without even knowing the whole story. He would've done the same thing in her place. He smirked through his tears and then reached up and gently thumbed away one of her tears that was running down her face.

Then his smirk suddenly faltered and his panic rose again. "I-I'm so sorry, Wanda… it was my fault. I-If I hadn't g-gone out there to save that kid –"

" – Then that kid would have been shot by Ultron and have had died anyway. It wasn't your fault, or that boy's fault, or Pietro's fault," Wanda spoke gently. "It was Ultron's fault, and even though my brother and you had your differences, I know he still respected you. His respect for you is why he did what he did. He wanted to protect you both."

Clint knew he had heard similar words come out of Tony's mouth as well as Natasha and Bruce's before, but somehow, they meant more coming out of a Maximoff's mouth. He leaned down over his legs and put his face in his hands, his shoulders starting to tremble as he cried openly now.

"Y-You should h-hate me…"

Wanda set her coffee down on the bedside table before she put both her arms around Clint's shaking body. "Hey, of course I do not hate you, Clint. You made me stronger than I was before. You told me as soon as I went out those doors, I was an Avenger. I was one of you, and Avengers save lives, and protect people. That's what Pietro did. He would have done anything to protect innocent people."

"I-I wasn't innocent! I-I killed h-him…" Clint continued to sob, his panic overwhelming him.

She looked worriedly at the archer and then moved herself so she was kneeling down in front of him. Clint felt Wanda take his hands in her own and hold them. "Look at me, Clint… please."

He rubbed his eyes with his palms and shakily lifted his head to look at her. She was crying, but she was still calm and her tears were silent. In truth, you wouldn't know she was even upset if he hadn't heard her sniffle occasionally.

"You did not kill my brother. Ultron killed him. I was so mad at Stark for the longest time… I always thought it was his fault, for creating a homicidal maniac in the first place. I blamed him for so long, but my hatred towards him didn't bring my brother back, and I knew that it would never bring him back," Wanda explained in a shaky voice.

Clint nodded, understanding where she was getting at, and he knew she was right; it was Ultron that killed him, not Clint and not Tony. Well, okay… it was Tony to a fault.

"Natasha called me the other day, and told me how you were feeling, how guilt was eating you up. You're good at saving people, Clint, but you cannot save everyone. You did not know my brother would save you. You were just thinking about the boy, in that moment, and that is okay. That has to be enough."

Clint stood up and took a deep breath before he put his hands behind his head in distress and looked at her. "It isn't enough though, Wanda. It's never enough. I keep… replaying the scene in my head, over and over and over again, just to see if there was anything I could have done differently. The only conclusion I come to is not going after that boy, just… letting him get shot by Ultron."

Wanda stiffened and then she also stood up.

"That was never an option, Clint Barton. That is not who you are. Pietro is gone, but he died for a good cause, I believe," Wanda persisted, wiping her tears away and giving Clint a small smile.

He wanted to feel better by her words but he found himself somehow feeling even worse than before. He knew it wasn't her fault; she didn't know. Clint felt even guiltier. He didn't believe he was a good reason to be sacrificed for. He didn't believe that anyone should die for him, no matter who it was, but especially Pietro. He was so young. He had his whole life ahead of him.

"Stop it, Clint… right now," Wanda demanded, but she spoke teasingly.

He chuckled weakly. "What are you talking about? I didn't say anything."

She moved back over to her coffee and took a long drink from it, the liquid having turned lukewarm during their discussion. "I know what you are thinking though. You're still blaming yourself."

Clint sighed and attempted to pull himself together.

"Yeah, well… I'll probably be blaming myself for a while. There's nothing you can do about that. It's just the kind of person I am," Clint shrugged. She nodded in acceptance before he changed the subject. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here with all of us? Stark has plenty of room."

She smiled a bit brighter now and nodded. "I am sure, at least for now. I'm staying in a place only fifteen minutes from here so I'm not too far. I'll come and visit."

He felt like the air was lighter now that they were focused on her. It felt easier to talk and breathe again. "Yeah, by all means. Please do. Even with Nat, there's still too much testosterone in this place," he joked, laughing softly.

She grinned and also joined in with him. He moved closer to her and then wrapped his arms around her in a mentor-ish hug. He felt her arms wrap around him as well and felt her relax against him. They embraced for a few minutes before he finally released her.

"We better get downstairs before the guys start assuming you killed me," he winked before he led her out of his room and down the elevator before he saw the dining room was empty but heard voices coming from the living room.

He crept towards the room and saw the lights were off and they were watching The Man From U.N.C.L.E. and seemingly enjoying themselves. He looked back at Wanda who was backing away and shaking her head but was smiling.

"I am just going to go now. I'll come back soon, I promise. You go enjoy the movie, Clint."

He was about to argue but she waved him goodbye and quickly took her leave. He sighed tiredly and moved towards the living room, looking around for Nat. He found her propped against the far right side of the couch and made his way over to her.

Clint heard Tony swear him at him when he accidentally stepped on his foot ("Goddamn it, oww!") and plopped himself down between Tony and Natasha. He felt her body shift and saw her lay on her side, her head on his lap as she continued to watch the movie but now looked more comfortable and at ease. He rested his arm on her hip and started to focus on the movie when he heard Tony whisper to him.

"Hey, Barton… everything all right with you and Wanda?"

Clint nodded in the darkness.

"Yeah, everything's fine. We just mostly talked about Pietro."

"I figured."

"Shhh!" Nat shushed them. "Save the guy talk for later. We're actually watching a decent movie here."

Tony chuckled and rolled his eyes before he looked down at Nat, not caring that she couldn't see him. "Excuse you, Romanoff, but I believe I have a pretty decent movie collection and for the record, we agree on a lot of movies."

"Yeah, okay… whatever, Stark," Nat teased before she put her finger to her lips again and then focused back on the movie.

Clint watched as the movie played on and Steve eventually fell asleep in the recliner chair. Bruce was next, falling asleep next to Tony's legs, and then he saw Nat's breathing even out as she also fell asleep. It was about another hour before Stark fell asleep, leaning against the side of the couch and Clint had made it to the very end of the movie before requesting Jarvis shut the television off.

It took him awhile to fall asleep without any background noise, but once he did, his fingers resting in Natasha's hair, he was out for the count.


End file.
